The Most Powerful Emotion
by Maddeline Kirkland-Bonnefoy
Summary: A group of girls are about to embark on a journy to find out just how true that is. When one of them does the unthinkable, her "little sister" must tell the story of what lead her to make the ultimate choice. Rated for themes.
1. Prologue

**Okay, some of you may know this as "Love: The Most Powerful Emotion," but I've changed the title just a bit, and I've broken down my monster prologue into three chapters. What is written below, is the real prologue, and the other two will simply be preliminary chapters. I'm sorry this isn't and update, as I'm sure some of you have been waiting for one, but this over-haul was needed; it was annoying me that I had written so much for_ just _the prologue, and had no muse for anything else. So, this way, at least there will be three chapters, and when I work through what I have written, I'm hoping that my muse will come back for this. So, without further ado, the disclaimer, and then onto the prologue itself._  
_**

**Disclaimer: I do not own_ Sailor Moon_; the franchise belongs to the authoress Naoko Takeuchi, and the rest of those involved in the creation of the anime, the manga, and musicals, and the live action. I simply own the plot, and my OC Sam. The second OC in this story, Evelyn, belongs to go-ahed-ahd-try, aka Koneko, aka my "cousin"/best friend in real life.**

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_Does she know? Sometimes, I wonder. Other times, I wonder if it even matters. I mean, yes, I've always professed never to have those kinds of feelings for my friends, but… I came to realize, on that God-forsaken school trip last week, that I had been lying to myself, and possibly all my friends, for the past year. I say again, I wonder if it even matters, what I feel; I've kept it hidden from even myself for all this time, why should I bring it to light now? And yet, I have; I came clean, and now, I fear how she will react. Will this be like before, when I found myself in this situation; friendship shattered and my heat broken along with it? Or will it end better, with acceptance, friendship still intact and nothing changed between us?_

The long-fingered pianist's hand closed the journal, setting the pen down beside it upon the desk. Emerald eyes flicked to the clock; just past ten in the evening. Her homework for the day had been finished, and all her chores completed, as well as dinner cooked and eaten, with the dishes after washed and put away. As usual, the tall teen had then retreated to her room and read for a time, before taking out her journal and seating herself at her desk. Then, she had proceeded to write down her thoughts, as she did every night; however, tonight was different, as changing events had taken place just after school that day. She had confessed her love to her best friend _(she thought it cowardly that she had done it via a note, but done was done)_ and then fled, ranting something about her karate class. A smirk curled her lips momentarily; she found it amusing that she had been able to even focus on something so mundane and normal after those events.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the vibration of her cell phone. After removing it from her pocket, and flicking it open, she realized it was a call. _(The confusion between a call and a text could easily be made, as she hardly ever had the sound on.) _She quickly answered it, by pressing the 'call' button, and lifting it to her ear. The word 'hello' had barely passed her lips, when the caller spoke. Her smirk returned. Leave it to the enigmatic woman on the other end of the line to disregard the formalities of politeness.

_"It is done."_ The other woman, elder by some years, spoke solemnly. It was not for any other reason than that it was simply her way; she was not a very expressive person, much like the blonde, in most cases.

"Thank you; everything is as it should be, I trust?"

_"How can you ask that?"_ The query which came was rhetorical. _"Of course it is; when have you ever known myself to do something incorrectly?"_ A beat of silence, then, _"You don't have to do this, you know."_

"Don't I? You yourself said something was going to happen this year – and you said that it unnerved you that you couldn't tell what. Rest assured that this was not my original intention; if it had been, it would have happened before this. And you still say I need not do this?"

The other woman gave no response. It was not because she could find no words, no. It was simply because she felt no need to reply to the truth in the younger's statement.

"That's what I thought. Now, shall I see you there? We both know it might be the last…" The trailing off of words was rather ominous, but the reason as to why was not yet known. And yet, the elder of the two seemed to know exactly how to respond.

_"Perhaps, perhaps not; you shall know why I cannot come, at any rate, if I do not. You shall be content with that, I trust?"_

"Another question which needs no answer; but yes, I shall be content, as you already know. So, whether I see you or not, I shall hopefully speak to you once more when the time comes."

_"You ask that as if you did not already know."_

A small, mirthless chuckle, then, "You are right, my friend, as always. So, it is good-bye for now, then?"

_"Yes, so it seems. Farewell, and may the Gods of old, and your God, light you way on this journey."_

"And may you take comfort in knowing that this is not simply an end, but a beginning also. Be well, dear friend."

It was an old, traditional parting. One older than the language in which they spoke, and perhaps older still than that from whence it had come, spoken by peoples now long lost. And yet, that mattered not. Both knew it well, as they had spoken it once, perhaps twice, before, at a time far from this, but with events no less grave. It marked both an ending, and a beginning, as noted by the very words themselves.


	2. Chapter 1

**Okay, so, here's chapter one. It's been slightly touched up from it's original version, when it was part of the prologue, so I hope you all like the changes, slight as they are. For this chapter, and to end my needless - and probably unread - ramblings, there is needed an additional disclaimer.**

**Disclaimer #2: The songs Things I'll Never Say, and So In Love With two, do not belong to me; they belong to Avril Lavigne and Mikaila, respectively. As always, Sailor Moon does not belong to me; I just like to mess with the characters sometimes.**

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**Chapter One - Things She'll Never Say and a Choice She Can't**** Make**

It was a clear night, about a week or so after the conversation between the two women had occurred. A slight breeze ruffled the trees. Though cool, it was not quite cold, more brisk; jacket weather, if you would. On just such a night, the spring Talent Competition was held; many students from the high school would partake, but only one could win. For some, it was not about winning, but a chance to show their talents to their peers and schoolmates. For others, a chance to launch their careers, as it was rumored that scouts from talent agencies attended every year. And still others simply entered for the fun of it, merely enjoying the celebration of the talents they, and their fellow competitors, possessed.

One such student, a senior this year and soon to graduate, had entered for a completely different purpose. Though usually brave and fearless, what she intended to express with her entry was something she had never been good with: her feelings. She had never quite had the capacity to put them into words—spoken words, that was—nor had she been able to show them very well, be it either in a physical or facial manner. Her friends, two of whom she had been close with since freshman year, had often tried to aid her, and yet to near no avail. One of these friends, in fact, was the very reason she had entered the competition this night; rather, the _feelings_ she held for said friend were the reason.

It was late, and the moon shone bright and full, having just risen. Her late entrance was perhaps to be expected; she was the last act of the night, after all. This had nothing to do with her seniority over the other competitors; no, it was simply because of the fact that the lineup had gone in alphabetical order—and by last name, at that. As she slipped into the auditorium through the doors which lead to the backstage area, the tall woman smiled slightly, wanly, before wiping her face blank of emotion once more. Garnet eyes watched from the shadows of the empty area behind the back curtain of the stage; watched, as the slightly taller of the two removed the fedora and trench-coat she wore, before stepping closer. Emerald met deep red for a moment; neither spoke, as they listened to the current act, previous to the athletic blonde's own, finished. With a sad smile shared in parting, the younger of the two made her way out onto the stage, while the elder seemed to melt into the shadows once more.

She would watch, and she would wait. It was all she could do now, as events unfolded; however, neither was something she was unaccustomed to. When one had the life of one Meioh Setsuna, one became accustomed to observing and biding one's time. After all, Setsuna _did_ have all the time in the world.

As the emerald eyed woman stepped into the light, her masculine features and body became more visible, along with what she wore. Normally, a dress shirt and jeans would have sufficed; however, tonight was different. She wore a white dress shirt, tucked within black dress pants, black dress shoes, and a black vest—or perhaps it was a waistcoat; none could be sure. It was obviously a step up from her usual 'dressy' attire, but not quite the tux she had been planning to wear to prom, before events had changed. A quick glance at the judges table—and a momentary grin for both Kemble- and Brinley-sensei—revealed her name, Tenou Haruka, written atop their scoring sheets; she would be judged upon stage presence, fashion of delivery, and then the quality of her overall performance. When the gesture had been returned, Haruka's face became neutral once more. Stepping up to the microphone, the tall blonde spoke into it, her slightly deep, alto-pitched voice ringing through the speakers.

"I'd like to dedicate this, the first piece which I will be performing tonight, to a certain someone; however, she is not whom you all think. Koneko-chan, this is for you. As for the esteemed judges—choose whichever you wish to score myself upon."

With those words, the track star made her way to the piano which had just been wheeled onto the stage. After seating herself, she adjusted and turned on the microphone mounted atop it to the position her height would require, and then set her long-fingered hands to the ebony and ivory keys. The melody was soft at first, but soon gained tempo and speed. Soon enough, the emerald eyed woman had joined her voice with the sound the instrument created. Both of what she would play were pieces she had written some months ago, but had only just recently found the right words to put to it. She had chosen sing it now, despite what her friends may have thought, and despite how contrary it may have been to her nature. As it was, she didn't even bother worrying about how she may sound to the whole of the school which was in attendance—she simply played, and allowed herself to become lost in the music.

The first, went as follows; dedicated, as said, to the girl whom Haruka called her 'kitten.'

_"I'm tuggin' at my hair_  
_I'm pullin' at my clothes_  
_I'm tryin' to keep my cool_  
_I know it shows_

_I'm staring at my feet_  
_My cheeks are turning red_  
_I'm searching for the words inside my head_

_I'm feeling nervous_  
_Tryin' to be so perfect_  
_'Cause I know you're worth it, you're worth it_  
_Yeah..._

_If I could say what I want to say_  
_I'd say I want to blow you—away_  
_Be with you every night_  
_Am I squeezing you too tight?_  
_If I could see what I want to see_  
_I want to see you go down—on one knee_  
_Marry me today_  
_Guess I'm wishing my life away_  
_With these things I'll never say…"_

At this point, she broke off with the lyrics, leaving only the piano to play for about two minutes or so, before resuming her singing.

_"It don't do me any good it's just a waste of time_  
_What use is it to you what's on my mind?_  
_If it ain't comin' out, we're not going anywhere_  
_So why can't I just tell you that I care?_

_'Cause I'm feeling nervous_  
_Tryin' to be so perfect_  
_'Cause I know you're worth it, you're worth it_  
_Yeah..._

_If I could say what I wanna say_  
_I'd say I want to blow you—away_  
_Be with you every night_  
_Am I squeezing you too tight?_  
_If I could see what I wanna see_  
_I want to see you go down—on one knee_  
_Marry me today_  
_Guess I'm wishing my life away_  
_With these things I'll never say_

_(What is)What's wrong with my tongue?_  
_These words keep slipping away_  
_(I stutter)I stutter (I stumble)I stumble like I've got nothing to say_

_'Cause I'm feeling nervous_  
_Trying to be so perfect_  
_'Cause I know you're worth it, you're worth it_  
_Yeah..."_

Here cam a short instrumental break, but not as long as the first, lasting only about a minute or so.

_"I guess I'm wishing my life away_  
_With these things I'll never say_

_If I could say what I want to say_  
_I'd say I want to blow you—away_  
_Be with you every night_  
_Am I squeezing you too tight?_  
_If I could see what I want to see_  
_I want to see you go down—on one knee_  
_Marry me today_  
_Guess I'm wishing my life away_  
_With these things I'll never say_

_These things I'll never say…"_

When she had finished, the woman took a breath, before speaking. She didn't even so much as give the applause no time to begin. "And this is for both Koneko-chan, and my Michiru." She then set to playing once more. Her fingers glided over the keys as seamlessly as ever, her prowess unmatched save by that of the masters. The tune was slightly more up-beat—more 'pop-y' perhaps—but there was an underlying sadness there. It was a struggle just below the surface; a conflict which no-one else could see, but one which she herself was all too aware of. It was this conflict which, in part, had caused the previously thought to be set-in-stone events to change so drastically.

_"My number one: There could never be no one like you_  
_How come I feel this way about_  
_My number two: Never tried to tell me what to say or do_  
_I'm so in love with two_  
_I don't want to push it_  
_I don't want to fight_  
_But this feeling keeps me up all night_

_If I only could decide_  
_But I can't make up my mind_  
_I'm breakin' all my rules because of you_  
_You can tell me it's not right_  
_And it tears me up inside_  
_But the problem is I'm so in love with two_

_Hey, hey, hey_  
_I don't know what to do_  
_Hey, hey, hey_  
_If I could, I'd choose the both of you_

_My number one: You give me everything I need_  
_But some things still are better with_  
_My number two: My best friend, she's the one that really makes me feel so right_  
_I'm so in love with two_  
_I don't want to push it_  
_I don't want to fight_  
_But this feeling keeps me up all night_

_If I only could decide_  
_But I can't make up my mind_  
_I'm breakin' all my rules because of you_  
_You can tell me it's not right_  
_And it tears me up inside_  
_But the problem is I'm so in love with two_

_But the problem is I'm so in love with two_

_Hey, hey, hey_  
_I don't know what to do_  
_Hey, hey, hey_  
_If I could, I'd choose the both of you_

_Don't want to fight another night_  
_Just want to make it right_  
_C'mon_  
_Ooh, my number one, oh, my number two_  
_Somebody tell me what I'm supposed to do_  
_My number one, my number two_  
_Somebody tell me_  
_I'm so in love with two_

_If I only could decide_  
_But I can't make up my mind_  
_I'm breakin' all my rules because of you_  
_You can tell me it's not right_  
_And it tears me up inside_  
_But the problem is I'm so in love with two_

_If I only could decide_  
_But I can't make up my mind_  
_I'm breakin' all my rules because of you_  
_You can tell me it's not right_  
_And it tears me up inside_  
_But the problem is I'm so in love with two_

_Hey, hey, hey_  
_If I could, I'd choose the both of you."_

With that, amid thunderous applause, Haruka stood from the piano bench, and made her way back to the front of the stage. None expected what she did next; none save herself and Setsuna, who still watched from the shadows of the backstage area. None could have seen it coming, but none could have stopped it, even if they had. This was how things needed to be. At least, that was how the blonde saw it; she saw no other choice of herself to make, no other option, no other way for this to end. And, though Setsuna wished she could have dissuaded the blonde, she knew that it was useless. Once Haruka made up her mind about something, no matter how much it might have hurt herself, there was no deterring the emerald-eyed high school senior form her choice. That, as so many other scenarios had over the years, was how this had played out. Even if the garnet-eyed, much older female of the two wished she could change things, she knew that they needed to happen this way; if not, then things of a much worse nature, and much higher magnitude would occur. Even if she wished she could save the woman who had once been like a sister to her, Setsuna knew that the choice was already made. Even if she wished she could change Haruka's mind, she knew with bitter certainty that there could be none of that – that she could not even attempt to do so.

Though it hurt, deeply, she knew it had to be this way; it was one life, in exchange for the billion or so others that inhabited this planet.


	3. Chapter 2

**Alright, here's part two. Not much to say, other than that I've redone small parts of this, and hopefully improved it a little.**

**Disclaimer #3: The word "_tetelestai_" does not belong to me; it is the property of the Bible and the Greek Language. Secondly, the hymn alluded to in the last lines of this chapter, "_All That is Hidden_" is copyrighted to Bernadette Farrell. Also, as always, _Sailor Moon_ does not belong to me.**

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**Chapter Two - The Choice She Did Make and the Story Only Her "Sister" Can Tell  
**

The tall woman hardly gave the applause time to die down, but id died a very quick death, when the audience became aware of what she was doing – more correctly, when they became aware of what her intent was. Having moved to the front of the stage once more, she unbuttoned the cuffs of her shirt, and rolled the sleeves up past her elbows. It was a familiar gesture, but one which had not been seen since the beginning of her sophomore year. And, it turned out, with good, if misguided, reason. A network of scars, both old and new, crisscrossed the woman's forearms, but that would not be the most shocking thing that night. Suddenly, there was a knife – a switchblade, which she had concealed in her sleeve and let slip into her palm before rolling up her sleeves – in her right hand. It felt weird, to her, sitting there, resting between her bony fingers. Though used to using it for purposes which were now made obvious, she wasn't used to carrying a knife on her person, as if for self-defense. No, she was much more content to use her own body for that purpose, as her black belts in at least three different martial-arts attested. Still, she knew how to use it, and she knew what to do to achieve her goal; her goal was The End.

She wasn't afraid of pain because she'd been through so much of it, and physical pain did little for her these days. (_The half healed scars that she hid from the judgmental eyes of people who would never understand her perfect reasoning were proof enough of that._) So, when she lifted the blade to rest in the hollow of her wrist just below her hand, only to press down and drag it up towards the junction of her elbow, she felt nothing more than a numb, stinging sensation. It was one she'd felt more than a thousand times before, but one that seemed to help so much in the beginning, now to be merely useless and habit.

It was the **mental** pain that she couldn't take, the **mental** sting that drove her mad, and she was weak because of it – Haruka knew this, and she was ashamed of herself. She never told anyone that the pain inside her head drove her mad. Not now, not **ever**, because now it was almost over, and she was proud that she'd never told anyone. (_And in her mind because she'd never told anyone, no one knew or even had the slightest idea that the pain existed._) Soon the end would come, and she wouldn't have to worry about her being sad or weak or pathetic anymore. She was fascinated with the sight of her own blood, at the way it pooled in so much **red** in the center of her palm before it dripped through her fingers towards the floorboards of the stage. And even though there was a lot of blood dripping from her left arm (_too much to recover from_) it was not enough, and so she placed the knife in her bloody palm and pressed the blade to her other wrist, watching in fascination as another beautiful crimson line appeared against the pale underside of her arm. It was almost identical to the first, (_if a bit crooked from the knife slipping in her hand because of all the blood_) and Haruka was proud that she got it almost perfect.

She was leaving nothing to chance, and she knew that if falling off the stage didn't kill her – her bones were something they had never before been, now; frail, so the fall should break a few ribs at least – the blood loss would, but she was going to make sure that there was no way in **Hell** that anyone would be able to revive her. The End was planned, after all, and although it wasn't supposed to end like **this**, she was prepared and ready for it none the less because, after the last couple months, the last few **years**, she wouldn't **ever** leave anything to chance ever again. Not that it would matter anymore anyways, of course. She'd lost a lot of blood, but it still wasn't enough, and even though she was beginning to feel just the slightest bit dizzy – oddly no dizzier than certain other things had made her before this – she managed to keep her balance on the edge of the stage for just a few minutes more. It wasn't that she didn't want to jump the proverbial fence or anything, it was just that she had to make sure to "dot her I's and cross her T's" before she did, so to speak.

Nothing, absolutely **nothing**, must be left to chance. So when she placed the switchblade beneath her left ear and held it in bloody hands to drag it across her throat to the right side of her neck, Haruka didn't do anything but smile faintly, one that only the judges could see. She'd officially passed the point of no return, and she was glad that she had. Amid the screams of panic, the blonde woman's final words could be heard. Those who heard thought them – it – a parody, sick and twisted, of where they were spoken at a previous death. Others, not understanding because they were either too young, or simply had not read the passage referenced, knew only that they were Greek. (_Maybe, someday, depending on where she ended up, she would thank the teachers that taught her where the word came from, and the language it was spoken in._) And still others felt it had some sort of symbolism, which they would never truly know. No matter how many accounts of this story circulated later – mostly thanks to the rumor mill's efficiency in reporting things like this, gruesome as it was – after everything had been completed, all agreed that blood stained her lips as she spoke, even if no-one had really been close enough to see, and most had turned away long before that. (_Those whom _had_ been close enough to catch a glimpse of it, i.e. the esteemed judges themselves, all also said that a faint smile had been in place upon her lips._)

"Tetelestai – it is finished."

With these words spoken, like a mirror of him whom she quoted, she bowed her head and commended her soul to God – the differences, however, were glaringly obvious. She had _not_ been martyred, was _not_ the ultimate martyr, but merely a girl whom had had enough of the internal pain and struggle she endured daily. She hung _not_ upon a cross, but slumped forwards – despite her thoughts, she hadn't fallen at all – upon an empty stage, at the disastrous end of a high school talent competition. And, most glaringly of all, she was not the Light of the World; however, to three, perhaps four girls, she had been the light of _their_ worlds.

* * *

It had been two days, since the catastrophic night of the Spring Talent Competition. Only two, and yet it felt like a lifetime had passed. The steady, rhythmic beep of the life support machine, and the woman's deep breathing were the only sounds in the room. The semi-dosing brunette in the chair beside the bed was the only other occupant of the room, but she would be joined soon enough by three other girls, all of whom had just as much right to be here as she did. Eyes of the same dark near-ebony hue of her hair were half-lidded, gazing almost blankly at the blonde on the bed. "You baka…" the whisper was somewhat bitter, and held the odd tone which indicated a long bout of tears had proceeded it. "How could you be stupid enough to leave us all here like that… You're selfish, you know that, right Haru? You're not the only one with issues… What am I doing, talking to someone in a coma… I must really be losing it…" The last was accompanied by a wry twist of the lips, which indicated the fact that she assumed she had already lost it much prior to this.

Her musings were broken, not five minutes later, by the door to the hospital room sliding open. The brunette turned to look, and a slow, sad smile spread from her wryly twisted lips. Two of the girls – women, really – standing in the door way were blonde, their hairstyles and heights being their only difference, and the third was aqua-headed. The aquanette, and eldest of the group, was Kaioh Michiru, Haruka's girlfriend of two years. The second, and tallest of the two non-comatose blondes, was Evelyn Steele; she and the brunette, Samantha "Sam" Chiba, had been best friends since freshman year. They were both now juniors. The third member of the trio and by far the shortest of the group – she stood at 4'11", possibly 5'0" – was Tsukino Usagi. She was also a junior this year. Her long blonde hair was held in two matching buns atop and to either side of her head, with tails streaming down nearly to the floor. Her eyes were cerulean, while Michiru's were sea-blue, and Evelyn's the color of blue ice.

While Sam and Evelyn shared a long hug, Usagi and Michiru took opposite, but mirrored, positions on either side of the bed. Both grasped one of the prone track star's hands, careful of the bandaged wrists and forearms, as if the comatose woman could feel them. When the other two parted, the best friends made their way over to the large bay window, seating themselves side by side on the window seat. Usagi's whispered query, which came after a moment of silence, went almost unheard.

"Do any of us know… How this happened?" Another beat of silence followed, before the usually-peppy blonde reiterated, realizing how her question must have sounded rather stupid. They all knew how Haruka had ended up here, after all. "I mean, what lead to this… What events and actions eventually drove Haru to… to…?" She fell silent; none questioned her, as they all knew she would have a hard time ever saying those words. None comented upon how she wasn't normally this wordy , or this conscious of the seriousness of things; now wasn't the time.

Sam sighed, rubbed her eyes wearily, and rested her head upon Evelyn's shoulder – the 5'10" blonde being taller than she by a good two inches – before speaking. "That would be I… I can tell the story in detail, if you wish, but that'll take some time… A few nights, I'd expect." When she had finished speaking, the brunette gazed at the cross she held; it had once hung about Haruka's neck, but had been removed and placed in a biohazard bag when the blonde was admitted to the hospital. Now, the martial-artist feared that it would join the other cross which hung about her neck, the one which had been her grandmother's. Saide woman had also been like a surrogate mother to both the brunette and the emerald-eyed blonde, but that piece of information was neither here nor there at the moment.

"Well," Michiru's speaking came quickly and crisply. "We do have that time, as it looks to be that Ruka won't be waking up anytime soon. Why not tell us, to pass the time?" It was a reasonable, rational request; however, if any knew the aquanette violinist, they would see that she did not want to be reasonable or rational right now. If any knew her as closely as these three did, they would see that as soon as she was alone, the eldest of their group (save Haruka) would crack, her mask of composure would fall away, and she would sob and be weak and distraught for hours after.

They would try their best to prevent that.

With a sigh, the brunette pulled her legs up onto the chair, crossing them before herself; Evelyn shifted to accommodate her friend's legs without a word, being used to this by now. Once they were both situate comfortably, the martial-artist looked at each of her friends in turn, speaking deliberately, no room for argument in her voice. "First and foremost, you guys need to know that, or a good portion of what I'm about to say, Haru would kill me if she knew I had told you. When she finally does wake up, and we reveal that the tale has been told, I'm not going to take sole blame for this. Though I may sound like a broken record by this point, you all are going to have to share the blame as well, since you asked for the tale to begin with. Are we clear on that?" She spoke again only when she had received nods from all assembled there. And so, with a sigh from the brunette, the tale of how things had reached this point was begun. Just as the hymn went, all that was hidden would be made clear. All that was dark now, would be revealed.

"Right, well, here's how everything started…"


End file.
